


Inexhaustible

by holyhael



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Afterlife, Experimental Style, F/F, Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-26 19:40:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2663987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holyhael/pseuds/holyhael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>How much longer?</i> she asks out in her mind. Even her brain feels like it’s sweating. Her mouth is as dry as the sand beneath her feat.</p><p>The voice that answers her is like a cool drink, alleviating Claire’s mental exhaustion. <i>Not far</i>, Hael promises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inexhaustible

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know what this is???

The faint flecks of gold in Claire’s eyes shine when the light catches them. Her expression is heavy and tired, but she marches on under the desert sun.

Ahead, waves of heat float over the dunes. The trail of footsteps she leaves behind is quickly whisked out of existence by the wind she cannot feel.

_How much longer?_ she asks out in her mind. Even her brain feels like it’s sweating. Her mouth is as dry as the sand beneath her feat.

The voice that answers her is like a cool drink, alleviating Claire’s mental exhaustion. _Not far_ , Hael promises.

 

 

The second she spies the pillar of salt, Claire stops and collapses. She gasps on her hands and knees; the sand burns, but she can’t care about that when it feels like her legs have been replaced by burned pudding and her lungs have shriveled up.

She licks her cracked lips futilely; it’s like scratching sandpaper against a craggily rock.

“Hael,” she says, more a breath than a word. “Hael.” Her voice dies with a croak.

She blinks once, twice. The third time Claire opens her eyes, a figure stands between her and the blistering sun, casting her in shadow.

 

 

As if from a great distance and through cotton barriers, Claire becomes aware of a voice. It’s the only anchor she has in this black, senseless oblivion she’s sinking in, and she latches on tight, unwilling to let go.

“Drink,” the feminine voice says. Something cold touches Claire’s lips and pours into her mouth. Instinctively, she gulps the liquid down. Her dry tongue and throat relish the water, and she tries to drink faster than the water pours into her. “Not too fast,” the voice orders. The cup held to Claire’s bottom lip disappears. Claire struggles to open her eyes.

 

 

A hand strokes her head with soothing frequency. The touch is warm and welcome; Claire nestles closer to the source.

When Claire open her eyes, she sees a face. Fair, golden, bright, pure. Her lips are shapely and pink, and they smile faintly down at Claire. Her eyes remind Claire of the depth of the ocean, the mysteries of space, the innocence of a child.

She cradles Claire’s head in her lap and speaks calmly to her. She knows Claire’s name.

“Hael,” Claire remembers and coughs the angel’s name.

“Rest,” Hael urges her, and Claire does, feeling safe in her presence.

 

 

Claire’s strength returns to her in degrees. At first, she is too weak to even help herself to water, but soon she can sit up and hold Hael’s hand in hers.

Hael’s hands fascinate Claire. Looking at them, one wouldn’t guess she single-handedly created the most awe-inspiring natural attractions on Earth. Her hands are clean of imperfections.

“What was it like?” Claire asks Hael as she plays with her fingers, “Creating the Grand Canyon?”

Hael thinks for several moments, looking up. When she finally finds the right word, her face is full of rapture. “Phenomenal,” she says.

 

 

“This is good.” The way Hael phrases it is both a question and a statement. Claire bites her lip and nods.

“Good,” Claire grunts. She thrusts her hips up to Hael’s pleasurable touch and is rewarded by the thrill that shoots through her whole body from her clit. “Very good. The best.”

The kiss they share tastes all woman and is only broken by their breath. Hael uses the same focus and intensity to satisfy Claire as one would use to build the tallest skyscraper. Claire savors her like a woman dying in the desert because, hey, she nearly was.

 

 

She doesn’t have nightmares anymore. It’s a welcome change from the assault that received her every time she closed her eyes after Castiel stormed in and back out of her life. She suspects the lack of nightmares is Hael’s doing, but she says nothing about it. Hael hasn’t pressured Claire to talk to her about anything; she’s only nurtured Claire, taken care of her in a way no one has before, loved her wholly. Claire feels safe just knowing Hael exists, and as long as Hael exists, Claire will always be happy. She hopes Hael feels the same towards her.

 


End file.
